“But you…it was you.”
Christopher shook his head sadly. “If you had been there for her, if you had been looking out for her, then I wouldn’t have had to. I wouldn’t have gone into the water. I was just trying to save her, but she started to scream.” A biting anger crept into his voice. “I was just trying to put my arms around her to keep her afloat, but she kicked and she bit me. She called me a freak.” He paused, eyes flashing silver. “You should have been there. You should have been there when she stopped kicking.”
He looked at her with a bizarre kind of sorrow in his eyes, and Brynna’s mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. She could scream, but Harding Beach was far back off the road and off the beaten path. Even if she could run, there was nowhere she could go.
“You don’t have to do this now. You don’t have to.”
He kicked her feet while he held her up, his lips at her ear. “I have to do this. You made me do this. You and Erica. You could have stopped me.” He paused, his knife-sharp eyes burning into hers. “But you just let her die.”
“No,” Brynna mumbled. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know where Erica went. It was dark and I couldn’t see her.”
“She was so, so scared all alone out there. Especially before she knew I was watching her.”
Brynna’s stomach churned.
“And now I’ve been watching you.”
She tried to turn away, but he pressed his lips harder against her cheek, wrapping her hair around his hand. “I’ve learned a lot since Erica though.”
He gave her another kick and lifted her as they slowly made their way to the beach. The tears rolled over Brynna’s cheeks, and she did her best to look around, eyes darting for anyone who may be nearby. She saw the remnants of a bonfire—a couple of smashed red party cups and a forgotten, sand-covered blanket—but no people. Christopher’s eyes followed hers and then he grinned. “No one to hear you scream.”
His voice sent a tremble of fear shifting down her spine, and she lost her breath when he swept her up and carried her to the tide line.
“Don’t do this. Oh god, please don’t do this.” Brynna struggled against her restraints, feeling her feet and hands move just a slight bit more than they had in the car. Not by much—not enough to free her.
Christopher gazed down at her then rolled her from his arms. She landed with a sickening thud, her body falling like the dead weight that it was, smacking against the wet, hard-packed sand. Brynna struggled to catch her breath, tried to steel herself against the sudden pain ripping through her whole left side.
Christopher pulled her onto her back, bracing himself over her. Brynna’s hands and feet dug into the wet sand, doing anything to put distance between the two of them.
“Wondering why I didn’t just toss you off the pier? So I could hold you under like I did Erica?”
The glee on his face—the brightness in his eyes—was nauseating. Tears rolled from Brynna’s eyes into her ears but were immediately washed away by the tide coming in. It was shallow, just about an inch, enough to wet her hair and flick a few drops into her ears.
“It’ll take longer this way. When the tide comes in, I can watch you die.” He grinned, a hideously dark grin. “It will take a long, long time.”
Christopher pushed off her, sitting up on his knees, watching as the tide went out. Brynna stared at him, paralyzed. He shot her another grin then pushed her up on her side so that she was facing the water, facing the crashing waves. He patted her head. “Don’t worry. We’ve still got time.”
Brynna watched in terror as the tide came in, wave after wave crashing over her. She turned her face away as best she could, avoiding the first few crashes of water, but as the tide got higher, the water splashed over her chin and her lips then washed over her nose. She tried to remain calm, to hold her breath, because just as soon as the tide would come in, it would go out again.
She watched Christopher stand up, still with that weird, serene smile on his face, and walk behind her. She could feel the sand fall as he burrowed one foot under her then kicked her again. She flopped on her stomach, and the water crashed over her, an icy wave breaking over the back of her head, flittering sand into her eyes, nose, and mouth. She coughed and he laughed, then the water was back, crashing over her. She watched it recede, the terror ratcheting up each time she noticed that the tide would go out less and less, the depth of the water increasing, closing the gap between the water and Brynna.
“Please, Mr. Fallbrook, don’t do this!”
“Or what?”
Brynna had no answer. Her neck ached from arching it back each time the water closed over her. Her ribs felt splintered, broken and useless. Sand and salt water burned at her eyes.